


Nobody Cares That I'm Broken

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:37:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1795747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up, not with black eyes, but blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very.  
> VERY  
> /VERY/  
> Sorry about this.  
> However, should anyone enjoy this whatsoever for some off reason, I'll update when I get 1 Kudos and 1 Comment :)

“Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see, feel what I feel. Lets go take a howl at the moon.” Crowley whispered eagerly to the boy lying in front of him. He couldn't believe that after all of his work, this was finally happening. The threat of Dean Winchester was no more.

 

“Crowley?” Dean whispered, opening his eyes. Crowley was staring at him, first with a look of joy, then horror. “Crowley what—” Dean stood up and was faced with Crowley backing up slowly away from him. Dean put his hands up in front of him. “Woah, Crowley it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt yo—well, no that's debateable—but you can stop your little panic session, okay?” Dean inclined his head to the demon as he nodded.

 

“Okay.” He said. “Good.” Crowley looked at Dean, maintaining what Dean recognised as a safe distance, and he had never been more confused in his life. “So, Crowley, you mind telling what the Hell is going on? And you can stop acting like your name is Rose Tyler and it's Doomsday. I can't—I can't beat the King of Hell in a fight.”

 

For a moment, Crowley looked pround of himself, but that didn't last very long as he muttured “This isn't right.”

 

“Crowley!” Dean yelled in frustration. A vase that was on the table beside him shattered at the sudden raise in his voice. Dean whipped his head to it, his eyes widening. He pointed at it.

 

“Did...did I do that?” he looked at the glass shards in awe.

 

“'Fraid so, Squirrel.” When Dean looked at him, his eyes begging for an explaination, Crowley sighed. “Well...let's just say I was aiming for the, uh, the other one.”

 

“What, did you bring me back as a girl or something? Is that it?” Crowley shook his head in annoyance at Dean.

 

“Well am I hot?”

 

Crowley let out a frusturated groan and said to Dean “Stay here.” as he stormed out of Deans room. Dean stood awkwardly beside the bed and began thinking of any possible explaination as to why Crowley was suddenly an emotional two year old. He sat on his blood covered sheets as he remembered what happened. It all seemed pretty fuzzy, but the one thing that kept him hanging was four words.

 

“I'm proud of us.” He whispered to himself and wondered where Sam was, if he was okay. Was he in the bunker? After debating with himself, he decided to go check. He had to see, before Sam did something stupid.

 

Just as he was heading down the hall, Crowley caught up to him and stopped him.

 

“Didn't I tell you to stay in that dirty little room of yours?” He raised his eyebrows in annoyance.

 

“Yeah, but Crowley—I gotta see Sam. Can't your freaky demony stuff wait?” He gestured to the rusty mirror Crowley was holding.

 

“Moose?” Crowley intoned with a smirk. “Moose is fine. Yeah he's downstairs trying to sell his soul to bring you back. I think he might be drunk. But yeah, he's fine, living up to the family's expectations and whatnot.” Deans eyes widened and he tried to turn around.

 

“You can go see your brother in a minute, but first...” he grabbed the mirror and lifted it up.

 

“So I am a chick...” Dean smirked to himself, until he saw his reflection.

 

“He looked up at Crowley in shock, and all he did was nod grimly. The two of them held eye contact until Dean looked back down at the face staring back at him in the mirror.

 

 

“Son of a bitch.”


	2. Whoever Said "Use 'em or lose 'em" Has Never Experienced Having Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow people are actually enjoying this???  
> So sorry.

"Are you...this isn't...what the Hell did you do?" Dean stared at Crowley, his eyes widening.

"Actually, quite the contrary." The demon in front of him shrugged, while Dean continued to stare at him. After a little bit of squinting, nodding, and walking in circle, Dean stepped back and spoke to Crowley.

"You have horns. And I have a...sheep...head? Couldn't I at least have gotten something cool like a shark or something? Not a damn sheep."

"Well at least it's not a squirrel." Crowley grinned cheekily at Dean.

Dean shook his head.

"Fuck you, Crowley."

"Ooh an angel and a demon. Sounds a bit kinky, doesn't it? Don't worry, I won't tell Sam." He winked at the last word.

Dean shot Crowley a fake smile and turned around, walking down the dusty hall of the Bunker. He'd never really noticed it before, but now he could see thousands of dust molecules floating in front of his face, looking for somewhere to land.

So far, being an angel wasn't very fun.

"Did you say that Sam was gonna sell his soul for me?" Dean turned back to Crowley.

"Yep. I guess that's the Wi-" Dean stopped him

"If you say the Winchester Way, so help me I will kill you with my bare hands. I mean, I'm capable of it, aren't I?" he studied his fingers.

"Well how many parties have you pooped?" Crowley raised his eyebrows.

Dean paused, processing what Crowley had just said to him. "...What?" He shook his head at the demon.

"Nothing. Yes, Moose is downstairs."

The demon glowered at Dean as he turned away. "If you're going to have angel powers at least use them you tosser!" He shouted after him. Dean stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned towards him.

"Angel powers?" Dean asked. Crowley continued to stare at him with a blank look. "So...I can heal people and stuff? And..." A mischievous grin fell across Dean face and muttered "And I can fly." He looked at the wings behind him, flexing his shoulders to spread them out. He looked at Crowley and turned, yelling "Sammy!" as he took off.

Within a second, he had landed in the bunker. On his stomach. He stood up and ran a hand over his face. Clearing his throat, he muttered to himself. "That's gonna need...a lot...of work." He shook his head and turned around. He didn't even get a chance to process what was in front of him before there was a ring of fire around him. Sam stood in front of him with a matchbox in his hand.

"I don't know who you are," He looked at Dean, with fury in his eyes. "But get the Hell out of my brother."


End file.
